


Same Same But Different

by ZuluOscarEcho



Category: Scorpion (TV 2014)
Genre: F/M, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash, Set after 2x06
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:02:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26357653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZuluOscarEcho/pseuds/ZuluOscarEcho
Summary: (Set after 2X06 Tech, Drugs, and Rock 'n RollAfter Toby almost dies, Happy is worried about him and drives him home. Toby is...confused.
Relationships: Toby Curtis & Happy Quinn, Toby Curtis/Happy Quinn
Comments: 10
Kudos: 35





	Same Same But Different

**Author's Note:**

> idk what this is. I wanted to write something else. Instead I got feelings. I started watching Scorpion a week ago and I love one Dr Tobias M. Curtis more than anything else.

Happy stopped beside his desk and it took him a second to move his head to look at her. He didn’t hurt yet but he could feel a dull ache building. Right now he just felt like he was made of lead and moving, even to look at Happy, was a Herculean effort.

She was looking down at him, head cocked to the side studying him. “In your medical opinion, is it safe for you to go home alone?”

He paused, mind going a mile a minute, observing, calculating. He clocked the tense set of her shoulders - she was nervous, the way she made her own observations of him with her eyes tracking over him - she was…worried?

“Doc. You all right?” Her voice was as gruff as usual but she peered down at him rather than walking away.

“Yeah. Yeah I…” he trailed off as his brain got stuck on the wrinkle between her brows as she frowned at him. She was _worried._

Happy took a step forward and touched his arm. The frown grew deeper and her other hand twitched like she wanted to reach for some tool to fix it, fix him.

He looked down at her hand on his arm and back up at her in what felt like slow motion.

“You don’t look so good. I’m not so sure you should be alone. Where are your keys? I’ll drive.” She was as abrupt and brusque as Happy ever was but there was a slight tremble in her usually surgeon-steady hands and despite not taking her eyes off him, she wouldn’t meet his gaze.

Happy was worried about him, she was concerned about his health, she _cared._ This wasn’t the first time he’d been hurt during a job, definitely not the first time any of them had been hurt but this was the first time Happy had sought him out to check on him and definitely the first time she’d offered to drive him home.

Happy turned and picked his keys from amongst the mess on his desk. She tugged on his ash covered sleeve with the other hand and he followed her without thought.

He’d follow her anywhere.

Happy was silent on the drive, which was no surprise, she wasn’t particularly loquacious at the best of times, especially not after a long and stressful day. What was a surprise is that Toby was also quiet.

He felt like his world had been turned upside down with Happy being _nice_ to him, not that she was ever mean, she just wasn’t _actively_ nice. He felt a little fizzle of warmth slide through him at the thought. He’d known that she liked him, or else she wouldn’t have been so upset when he messed up. But in the last few weeks, they’d settled back into their old friendship, albeit slightly stilted whenever their banter threatened to slip in to flirting. He’d thought it was too late, especially with Chet on the scene, but maybe not all hope was lost.

His brain was so stuck on Happy being concerned about him, playing their interaction in the garage on loop, that he didn’t notice where they were, or more accurately where they weren’t, until they were out of the car.

“This isn’t my apartment,” Toby said, glancing around owlishly as he followed Happy down a hallway to stop in front of number 7.

Happy looked back at him and shrugged one shoulder. “Nah, I don’t know where you live. This is my place.” She paused after she opened the door and turned a scowl on him. “Don’t touch anything, okay?”

He held up his hands in surrender as she opened the door. “I would never.”

She led him into the studio apartment. It was pretty spartan except for the multitude of appliances and engine parts strewn over anything that even resembled bench space. Both stools at the breakfast bar contained tool boxes and the coffee table was strewn with motor magazines. “Bathroom’s through there if you wanna shower.” She ducked down to rifle through the drawers of what looked like an old mechanics tool box and pulled out some clothes for him.

“Wait, who do these belong to?” he asked, holding up a pair of sweatpants and an old faded jumper. “Are these Chet’s?” He was exhausted and starting to feel that ache that always came after a physically hard job, not to mention the probably bruised ribs he had from Happy’s CPR, but he had a visceral reaction to the idea of wearing Happy’s boyfriend’s clothes. So much for independence.

Happy rolled her eyes. “No. Old boyfriend from college.”

Toby nodded, satisfied that at least the guy who’d owned these clothes was long gone, and turned towards the bathroom.

“Towels are under the sink!” she called after him.

Toby nodded as he shut the door behind him. The rush of the shower water helped calm his mind and for 4 blissful minutes he didn’t think about anything more than washing the soot and sweat from his skin.

Happy was fiddling with what looked the insides of an alarm clock on her kitchen bench when he came out of the bathroom, towel over his head as he scrubbed at his wet hair.

“Now I just want to sleep for a week,” he said with a weary sigh, voice muffled from under the towel.

Happy blinked at him. She’d never seen him look so soft and vulnerable. He looked dead on his feet and his usually considering gaze was almost blank from exhaustion.

All the times he’d spouted off about his feelings for her, playing at being sincere, and she did believe his feelings were real, but there was always some sort of agenda in the way he spoke to her, to anyone, some facade or wall between him and whatever could hurt him.

She could relate, but it made seeing him like this, his cheeks flushed from the shower and his hair sticking up in all directions rather than flattened by his hat, feel like she was seeing another side of him she’d never even gotten a peek at before.

“Uh, you sleep on the left, I like to sleep on the right.” Happy ducked down to dig out pyjamas for herself so she didn’t see the raised eyebrow or following shrug as he crawled into the left side of the bed without question.

“Anything I need to worry about with you tonight?” she asked turning back to him. “You know, medically?”

Toby’s eyes were closed when he replied and he looked almost asleep already with one arm tucked up behind his head. “No. As long as my heart doesn’t stop I’ll live.”

“Okay. I guess I’ll listen out for it.” With that she turned and headed into the bathroom herself and Toby was asleep before he even heard the shower turn on.

When Happy came back from the bathroom, Toby hadn’t moved. She stood beside the bed as she towel dried her hair, too tired and too concerned about waking Toby to use the hair dryer. She considered how on earth she was supposed to check if his heart stopped beating in his sleep. 

She hung the towel up in the bathroom and carefully slid into bed beside him. She slowly moved closer to him and carefully lay her head on his chest, damp hair splaying out behind her. She could hear the steady _thump-thump_ of his heart beat beneath her cheek and she felt herself release the tension she hadn’t even realised she’d been holding on to.

Ever since Walter had flicked that switch and she’d watched the oxygen levels drop, and Toby with them, she’d felt on edge, a tightness crawling across her skin. Even literally breathing life back into him hadn’t made the feeling go away but she could feel it ease now with every beat of his heart beneath her head.

When Toby woke up it was still dark. He could see brightness from the streetlights outside leaking in around the drawn curtains. His whole body hurt, but especially his head which is why it took him a minute to realise the pressure on his chest wasn’t the probably fractured ribs from Happy’s CPR but Happy herself curled up against him.

He blinked down at her head, dark hair spilling out behind her before he decided to ignore whatever this was and go back to sleep.

The next time Toby woke up he was alone but he could hear quiet movement and he dragged himself out of bed and into the bathroom before finding Happy in the kitchen.

She was supervising an old Happy-style refurbished mixmaster that was slowly stirring a bowl with a wooden spoon.

Toby ran a hand through his hair, feeling it stick up and reminding him why he always wore a hat. “Hey, uh, thanks for driving me back here and letting me stay last night. I probably just would’ve crashed at the garage and we all know that couch is older than dirt. Anyway, I’ll go home and get out of your hair.”

“You don’t have to go. I’m making pancakes. You should probably eat something anyway.”

“Happy…” Toby trailed off, eyebrows showing his confusion. “Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate it, but what’s going on? You bring me back here, let me sleep in your bed, I wake up in the middle of the night with you asleep on my chest - which admittedly could have just been a really good dream - and now you’re making pancakes? This is…not like you.”

“Iwaslisteningtoyourheartbeat,” she mumbled to the pancake mixture.

“What?”

Happy huffed and turned to glare at him without saying a word.

“Why are you glaring at me?” he asked in bewilderment.

“I was lying on your chest because I was listening to your heart beat!”

Toby still looked confused. “Okay?”

“You know, so you wouldn’t die,” she said turning back to her pancakes. She turned off the mixer, getting out a frying pan to heat. “You almost _died_ yesterday, or you did die, I don’t even know.”

Toby shrugged nonchalantly, like it was something that happened all the time. Near death experiences hadn’t actually been super common for any of them up until a few years ago. Unless you counted the number of daring escapes Toby had made from people he’d owed substantial amounts of money to. “Technically dead, but not brain dead seeing as you resuscitated me in time.”

“Whatever. I just wanted to know you’re okay.”

“I am okay,” Toby said slowly. “And we _all_ almost died yesterday. You were stuck in the pump room that was on fire, Sly was stuck with the kids, also on fire, and Walter was…Walter.” Toby shrugged as if that explained Walter and to be perfectly honest it kind of did.

“It’s not the same,” she said. She turned to face him and looked at him the way she always did when she couldn’t find the right words but knew he’d find them for her. “You know it’s not the same.”

Toby shook his head and moved to stand in front of her. “No, I _don’t_ know that it’s not the same. You froze me out, you said we were just friends, colleagues. It _is_ the same.”

Happy bit her lip and looked up at him. “It’s not the same.”

Toby let out a breath and nodded at her, or himself. “Okay then. I’ll stay for breakfast.”


End file.
